


Deal With The Devil

by Lasenby_Heathcote, SMDarling



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Art Embedded, Biting, Blood Play, Bondage, Brief somewhat graphic description of severe bodily injury, Extended Warnings in End Note, Frost Giant!Loki, Ice Play, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Magic As Lube, Magical restraints, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scratching, Size Difference, Size Kink, Very brief mention of castration, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote/pseuds/Lasenby_Heathcote, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMDarling/pseuds/SMDarling
Summary: Steve is dying, and Bucky is out of options. The world wants them both dead, they have no more allies and nowhere to go. All they have is a stolen quinjet, somewhere above the icy expanse of Scandinavia. They've both been on ice before, so Bucky puts the plane down and prays—anything,so that Steve might live.Loki is the only god who hears him.





	Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Fic created for The [MCU KinkBang](https://mcukinkbang.tumblr.com/) by SMDarling, here and on [Tumblr](http://smdarling.tumblr.com/), and claimed to make art for by Lasenby_Heathcote on [Tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)!!!! 
> 
> (This is also a bit out of my usual wheelhouse, and I had a helluva time figuring out what all to tag, please check end note for extended warnings if there's anything you're worried about, and as always let me know if there's something you wish I'd tagged or expanded on in the end note in a comment or on Tumblr!)
> 
> (And, for what it's worth, Bucky and Steve don't actually get together until the end hashtagsmileyface)
> 
> <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Steve is dying. Steve is _dying_ and Bucky is out of options. He puts the quinjet on autopilot (to nowhere, they have nowhere to go _they have nowhere to go_ —)

The snows of northern Scandinavia swirl around the plane. Despite the jet’s internal temperature, Steve's skin is so pale and blue he might as well be outside. 

There's so much blood, the gaping wound in Steve's abdomen still gushing. Bucky can see damaged organs past the edges of Steve's skin trying fruitlessly to knit themselves together. 

But this is a wound even the serum can't heal. 

Steve can't die. 

After all he's been through, he's survived the ice before—

_He's survived the ice before._

They're in a plane, above the frozen Arctic. Bucky researched after the fall of SHIELD, learned how Steve was found, how he put the Valkyrie down— 

But Steve sustained no major injuries, he'd been for all intents and purposes hale and hearty when he put that plane down. And when he thawed out, he was surrounded by medical personnel. 

Now, if they were ever found, they'd be arrested on sight. Chances are whatever government found them would let Steve die, wouldn't even try to save him, because it'll be a lot easier to tell the world he died of injuries sustained than that they put him in front of a firing squad. 

Bucky? The Winter Soldier? The world will celebrate his execution.

Captain America will still be mourned, but no one can be blamed for failing to save his life now, not with how injured he is. 

"Fuck!" Bucky gasps out, fumbling with the first aid kit, putting all his strength and weight over a bandage, trying to stop the bleeding even though he knows it’s hopeless.

Maybe they won't be found, or at least not for another hundred years. And maybe in another hundred years, the world won't be so quick to kill them— or at least not Steve. Bucky's sure he's due for execution no two ways about it. 

Still. Putting the plane down is his best option. 

Steve has only minutes. 

Bucky abandons his pointless attempt at emergency care for the controls. He looks at the GPS. They're over the fjords, glaciers, frozen waters of the Arctic. 

Hopefully it's close enough. Hopefully they'll freeze before they drown. Hell, even if Bucky dies— if it saves Steve, it's worth it. Steve is worth _everything_. 

Bucky aims the nose of the plane down, toward the ice. He remembers all his years of cryo, the freezing sensation creeping over him. How much he hated it, how it terrified him. 

He accelerates. 

He doesn't believe in God anymore— how could he, after the horrors of war and decades of torture? Whatever gods may or may not exist are not the merciful one of his childhood. There is no kindness, no rest, not even for those who deserve it (Steve deserves it). 

If the plane breaks apart, if they don't survive the crash, at least they'll be together in nothing— but that's not really good enough for Bucky. Even if he dies, he needs Steve to _live_.

"Please, if you're out there, I'll do anything— _anything_ — to save his life. _Please_ ," he whispers under his breath, and closes his eyes. 

The impact forces him to join Steve in unconsciousness. 

****************************** 

It's cold. Bucky's used to cold, waking up unable to feel his extremities, shivering violently. 

He's done this before. He can do this again. 

He opens his eyes. 

At first, when he doesn't see the tank or a technician or a handler, he's confused. Then he remembers— Steve, the fight, the jet— _Steve_ — 

But he doesn't see wreckage, no sky or ocean or quinjet. 

There's a stone ceiling many feet above him, and the floor underneath his back feels like stone to match. 

There's a flickering in the corner of his vision, indicative of fire, torches providing the light. 

He rolls his head, trying to get his bearings. 

"You're awake," a voice states, and Bucky flinches, startled. 

"Face me," the voice says, commanding, and Bucky doesn't want to, he doesn't— but orders are familiar, and he's perhaps more suggestible than he might be otherwise, waking up cold and confused like he used to. 

He sits up, slowly, and turns his head. 

"The Winter Soldier," the voice says, and he sees now it belongs to… to… _What is that?_

"You do not know me. You do not _recognize_ me," the creature says, amused. 

"Should I?" Bucky asks, voice rough and quiet. 

"Mm, likely not in this form. Do you like it? Or have I scared you?" 

Bucky looks them up and down. 

They sit in what is clearly meant to be a throne though Bucky can't imagine it to be comfortable. It's made of the same rough-hewn stone as the rest of the chamber. 

They are obviously tall, taller than any human Bucky's ever met. Eight feet at least, he can tell even with the way they stretch across the throne with one leg over an armrest, other splayed wide. 

Their skin is blue, with red lines— scars— no, _markings_ , symbols of some kind, criss-crossing up and down their exposed body, naked save for a brown loincloth made of what appears to be burlap. 

Their eyes burn red, and they wear a crown. 

"I am Loki," the being says, and Bucky recognizes the name. This— _this_ is the alien who led the army Steve fought when he first came out of the ice. The would-be conqueror. 

"These are my lands, this is my realm," Loki continues, "and I am the only thing out here, as it were, to hear your prayer. You wish to save the Captain's life?"

"You tried to kill him," Bucky points out, shoving himself to his feet. 

"Did I say you could rise before me?" Loki demands, red eyes flashing in anger, twitching his wrist. Bucky finds himself on his knees before he can blink. 

"You are in _my_ kingdom, Winter Soldier, and you _will_ respect me!" 

"I take it you found somewhere else to conquer?" Bucky asks, and he can't move his legs, can't stand again, whatever magic Loki used keeping him down. But he refuses to bow his head, meeting Loki's eyes in defiance. 

"Conquer? Oh no, Soldier, this is my kingdom, my _birthright_. I just came home.” Loki smiles at him, revealing long, sharp teeth. 

Bucky refuses to flinch. 

"Do you wish to save the Captain's life?" Loki asks. 

"Are you offering?"

Loki stares at him, and Bucky meets his eyes. There is silence. Then— 

"Anything, dear Soldier? _Anything_ for the Captain's life?"

Bucky knows what Steve would say. Steve would want him to refuse, say he's not worth whatever deal this _devil_ is offering, but… For Steve…

"Anything," Bucky confirms, at last lowering his head in deference. 

Loki's laugh echoes around the room. 

"So you would make a deal for him? Even with me?"

"I would do _anything_ for Steve," Bucky says. 

"Does he return your affections?"

Bucky winces, closing his eyes against the ache in his chest that question arouses, and shakes his head. "No."

"Have you ever asked?" Bucky can hear Loki moving, standing from his throne, steps down the dais echoing against the stone. 

"No," Bucky says, softer. "I don’t have to."

"Hmm. Are you sure? I have seen him, battled him, and I have kept my eye on him, on all Midgard's Avengers," Loki sneers. "The way he fought you— _for_ you— is nothing like he fought me."

"I'm sure," Bucky whispers. 

"Fine, if you insist. I will not ask again," Loki says, and Bucky opens his eyes.

"What is your price?"

"Winter Soldier. It is a fitting name, for this place. Do you know where you are, Soldier? You landed in the kingdom of Winter— one might say _you_ have come home, here." Loki stands over him now. Bucky can see his feet, bare, with long, claw-like nails. A freezing hand lands on his head, strokes through his hair, and Bucky shivers. 

"My name is Bucky," Bucky says, unable to help himself— because it's true, though it took him a long time to remember it. 

"And my home is Steve Rogers." That is also true, and was the first true thing he learned after seven decades of lies. 

Loki just laughs, tightening the hand in Bucky's hair, pulling hard against his scalp, forcing him to face upwards, to meet Loki's burning eyes. 

"I am the God of Lies, the Silvertongue." Loki laughs, towering over him. "Do you think I do not know truth? Honesty is a liar's greatest weapon, and _truth_ only exists to be manipulated— is _useless_ unless manipulated, and I am the master of manipulating it. 

"So you say your name is Bucky," he sneers, "and your home is Captain Rogers, and that is certainly a truth— but you are also the Winter Soldier, and a land like this is equally your home."

Bucky cannot refute that, knows it as surely as he knows anything— more sure, in fact, than most things. He was the Soldier longer than he was ever Bucky Barnes, and spent more time on ice than he did by Steve's side. 

"My price, Winter Soldier, for your _Steve's_ life, is thus.” Loki abruptly lets go of him, takes a few steps back, and Bucky can feel magic swirling in the air around them both, like shards of ice. 

"You will submit to me, worship me, _belong to me_ , as monarch of your kingdom. Do you accept these terms?" 

Bucky can feel the magic waiting for his agreement, but he's dealt with manipulators before, is one himself. He knows this art, learned it long before Hydra trained him in it.

"Steve will live? He will be healed _completely_ of his injuries, he will not die?"

Loki smiles. 

"Steven Grant Rogers will _not_ die, should you accept my offer" he confirms. 

"And how— what do you mean by submitting to you, _belonging_ to you?" Bucky asks. 

"Agree and you will find out," Loki says, teeth bared in a monstrous grin. 

"For—" Bucky's voice breaks, and he takes a deep breath. "Forever?"

Loki's grin fades. He looks sad now, with an age in his expression speaking of the centuries he's seen, more than Bucky can comprehend. 

"No," he says softly. "Not forever."

Bucky frowns.

"I know your history, _Bucky_. I know how you have been owned, used. It is… not unlike my own, an existence meant for nothing but to be a weapon, a tool of war. I would not wish that upon anyone."

"Then… how long do you want me?" 

Loki smiles again. "Just for tonight, if you'll have me."

A shiver wracks up Bucky's spine, as he abruptly realizes where this is going. 

"For Steve's life?” The decision is easy. “I accept."

"Then we have a deal," Loki declares, and Bucky is blinded by the green of Loki's magic, he feels as if he's spinning, the room around him or him within it— outside of it? 

He squeezes his eyes shut, feels his stomach lurch with nausea, sways on his knees, catches himself from faceplanting with his metal hand except it's not stone under him, he doesn't have great texture sensors in the palm but he can tell the difference between a solid, hard surface and _this_ — soft, warm, what?

He opens his eyes. 

They are somewhere else, and he is kneeling on a plush, warm rug. A room, a bedroom? But no, there is no bed— there is a fireplace, roaring to his right, and he is naked, naked and alone on the rug in front of it. 

He turns, realizes he has control of his body again, stands, looks around. 

Where is Loki?

"Over here," Bucky hears, and spins. 

Loki is across the room, moving around, not looking at him, fiddling with things Bucky cannot see. 

"I suggest you enjoy the fire," Loki says conversationally, still not facing him, "because you will not be so warm with me, I’m afraid." 

"Right," Bucky says, and now that he thinks about it, he can feel the chill threatening past the edges of heat from the fire. He shuffles backwards, closer, not close enough to burn or be hit by sparking ash, but closer all the same. 

He looks into the fire, away from Loki, biting his lip and wrapping his arms around himself. 

He's not used to feeling so vulnerable, not even at the mercy of his handlers and Hydra technicians. At least then, he knew if he really wanted to he could fight back. Oh, they would recapture him in the end, he could never _escape_ and the punishment would be extreme, but he could always take a few down with him. 

Now, here, with a god at his back, Bucky knows no matter what he tries he can't cause any harm. Any damage. All of his skill, all of his enhancements are useless in this realm, against this being. 

He hasn't felt so human, so weak and helpless, since— since he got his draft letter, since he boarded the ship for the other side of the world, since— since he woke up on a table and saw Steve, big and strong and inhuman, a god in his own right, hovering above him—

"I am ready for you now, Soldier," Loki says, and Bucky turns away from the fire only for it to immediately die at his back.

The cold hits him like a freight train— ha, freight train— and he flinches, shivers, hugs himself tighter, feeling his testicles withdraw, his penis shrink, his nipples peak. 

"What," he begins to ask, breaking off as another shiver wracks his body. "What do you want me to do?"

"Come over here," Loki says. It's dark in the room now, without the fire, and there are no windows, no torches but—

Loki's eyes glow red, and over on his side of the room there's a greenish glow, so Bucky can still see, the blackness is not absolute. He glances over his shoulder at the now empty fireplace, not even ash remaining. 

He faces front again, stepping off the rug onto cold stone that burns his bare feet. 

"Come to me," Loki says, voice low and smooth like honey, tall and monstrous and… _Beautiful_ , Bucky is surprised to find himself thinking. Beautiful in all his ugliness, all his darkness, all his icy skin. 

"Like me," Loki's words from earlier echo in Bucky's mind, and he can see it, he thinks. He can see it now. 

They are both creatures of ice and winter, destruction and war. 

Maybe this won't be so bad after all. 

Bucky goes to him, kneels at Loki's feet without being told. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Loki asks, bending slightly at the waist. One large, icy blue hand cups Bucky’s face, stretching from his jaw to his hairline. 

Bucky shies away, both from the burning cold and the compliment. 

“No,” Loki whispers, “you are. I have known monsters, I am one myself. You could be one of us, if you were not as beautiful as you are.”

Bucky blinks up at him, frowning. The cold of Loki’s skin burns his face, but the pain has an edge of something else to it. He doesn’t know if it’s Loki’s magic or…

“If monsters cannot be beautiful…” Bucky starts, unsure if he’s allowed to speak.

Loki arches a single eyebrow, an invitation to continue.

Bucky takes a deep breath, then finishes with, “you cannot be one either.” 

Loki’s red eyes widen in shock, and he moves to pull his hand back, but Bucky grabs it with his metal arm, fingers barely able to wrap more than halfway around Loki’s wrist. 

He nuzzles against Loki’s palm. “If we are as similar as you suggest, we are both monsters. And neither of us is beautiful.” 

Loki stares down at him, and Bucky doesn’t look away. 

Abruptly, Loki wrenches his wrist free, the metal arm no match for his frost giant strength, slapping Bucky hard across the face, sending him sprawling to the side. 

“Insolent!” Loki hisses, straightening, as Bucky groans and pushes himself back to his knees. He keeps his head bowed for another few seconds, before looking back up. His cheek is bright red from Loki’s slap, and his cock is somewhat fuller than it was, nowhere near erect but no longer so shrunken from the cold. 

He pants softly, lips parting, and meets Loki’s eyes again. 

Loki smiles, bending again to tangle his hand in Bucky’s hair. “But beautiful nevertheless.” 

Bucky pushes his head back into Loki’s tight grip, eyes fluttering shut. 

“So’re you,” he says hoarsely. 

Loki yanks him forward and up, dragging him into a rough, cold kiss, forcing his tongue deep into Bucky’s mouth. 

Bucky reaches out automatically, bracing himself with hands on the rough burlap at Loki’s waist, and submits. 

For all it feels like ice in his mouth, Loki tastes of fire. Bucky groans deep in his throat, opening his mouth wider, letting Loki taste him. 

The burning pain of Loki’s freezing skin has an edge of _pleasure_ to it. 

He licks tentatively at Loki’s tongue, stroking it with his own, and squeezes Loki’s hips. 

Loki breaks the kiss, letting go of Bucky’s hair and stepping out of Bucky’s reach all at once. 

Bucky sways forward, barely managing to regain his balance before falling. He breathes deep through his nose, cold air burning his sinuses, and keeps his eyes on the floor. 

“You are not as repulsed as I expected you to be, Winter Soldier. Do I appeal to you after all?”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. When he opens them, still facing the ground, he cannot avoid seeing his cock, now half hard between his thighs. He gasps, becoming aware all at once of how his blood throbs in his groin from the kiss, the slap, even from the cold. 

From the monster, the god in front of him. His cock twitches and firms up a little more. 

“What do you think?” he asks, looking up at Loki at last. 

“Why is that?” Loki asks, and Bucky can see evidence of his arousal as well, loincloth obscenely distended. 

“I dunno.” Bucky shrugs. “Maybe it’s just nice to relate to someone for once.” 

Loki hums, satisfied with that answer. 

“Also,” Bucky adds, because one cannot grow up with Steve Rogers without developing a large amount of sass, “you’re fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Loki rolls his eyes, but doesn’t seem to mind the compliment as much this time around. 

“If you insist,” he says, smirking, “then prove it.”

With a twitch of his wrist, his loincloth disappears and Bucky confronts the reality of his situation.

That reality is the biggest he’s ever seen, which makes sense. It’s proportional. 

Loki’s cock jumps and rises to full hardness as Bucky gapes at it, eyes wide. Besides the size and color being so obviously alien, it doesn’t appear that different from a human penis, and Bucky isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. 

The size alone is intimidating enough, without anything like spikes being involved, and Bucky’s dick pulses and leaks as he thinks of taking Loki’s. 

He must be twelve inches long from root to tip, so thick Bucky isn’t sure he can open his jaw that wide without dislocating it.

Loki steps forward, so tall Bucky has to stretch, tensing his thighs and core, to get enough height. 

He presses gentle kisses along the shaft, working his way up to the plummy purple head pushing past Loki’s foreskin. 

As more proof of his icy affinity, Loki’s cock is even colder to the touch than the rest of him. Bucky’s eyes fill with tears from the pain of having something so cold against his lips. 

He sticks his metal hand behind his back, afraid suddenly that it will freeze to Loki’s skin, and reaches up with his flesh hand to grip Loki’s cock. 

There’s at least an inch between his thumb and fingertips where they cannot meet, but he can feel Loki’s pulse beating under the skin even as his hand burns. He gives Loki a long, slow pump as he angles his cock down. 

Bucky whimpers at the cold on his tongue and the stretch in his jaw, but his jaw stays intact as he takes Loki into his mouth. 

He licks hard at Loki’s slit, tasting salt and bitter mixed with the fiery flavor of Loki’s mouth. He hears the god sigh above him, and pulls back once he realizes he can’t get his lips past the flared crown.

He strokes again, twisting his wrist around and squeezing, and summons as much spit as possible.

Then Bucky practically attacks Loki’s cock, mouth wide and tongue out, slobbering up and down the shaft to slick it up. His teeth scrape accidentally along the indigo vein on the underside. Loki hisses through his teeth, hips tilting forward. 

Bucky risks a glance up at him, sees Loki’s eyes are closed, and smirks. 

He licks his way back up to the head, sucking at the foreskin as he goes, stroking and spreading his spit around with his hand. 

There’s a drop of fluid beading in Loki’s slit, and Bucky purses his lips to suck it off. Loki takes a half step closer.

Bucky ducks down, and scrapes his upper teeth down Loki’s cock, rough, as he digs his thumb into the slit. 

Loki’s hands dig into his hair again, grip tight enough to pull at Bucky’s scalp, but not directing him, willing to let him lead. 

So Bucky leans in further, holding Loki’s cock up so he can lap at his balls, heavy and round. 

He sucks one into his mouth, and he couldn’t get them both at once if he tried. So he sucks hard, once, twice, before releasing Loki’s testicle and moving to the other one. 

Loki’s hips thrust forward, a small but undeniable movement, and if he could Bucky would smile. 

Instead, as soon as he moves back toward Loki’s cock, the hands in his hair pull him back, and one moves to his chin. 

“Open up darling,” Loki drawls, red eyes turning black as he stares down at Bucky. 

Bucky shivers, cock jumping, and opens his mouth as wide as he can. 

He keeps his flesh hand steady at the base of Loki’s cock and lets Loki’s hands on his head guide him forward. 

Loki pulls Bucky down on his cock, forcing the crown past Bucky’s lips as Bucky’s tears spill over from the pain. 

“You agreed to this,” Loki reminds him, and Bucky pushes another inch into his mouth without guidance for lack of a better way to respond. He agreed to this to save Steve’s life, yes. Now that they’re actually doing it, he’s finding he wants it for its own sake too. 

The cold burns his mouth, his jaw aches as if it’s about to crack, and Loki keeps pushing. 

Bucky breathes harshly through his nose, but Loki’s cock enters his throat and cuts off his air. He chokes and gags around it, and Loki pulls back just far enough for Bucky to inhale deep before returning. 

He has six inches, maybe more, stuffed in Bucky’s mouth. Bucky’s lips, already chapped, are cracking and beginning to bleed from the stretch. He can’t cover his teeth, but as long as he isn’t purposely biting down Loki seems to like the scratch. 

Bucky clenches his metal hand behind his back, and squeezes his flesh one hard around Loki’s dick. He meets Loki’s gaze, even with his vision blurring from tears and oxygen deprivation. 

The hand on Bucky’s jaw strokes down to his neck, feeling over his throat where it’s bulging out, before returning to grip his hair. 

Bucky moves his head as much as he can, less than half an inch up then down. Nodding. 

Loki grins, sharp teeth gleaming in the low green light. 

He pulls Bucky back by his hair until just the head remains in Bucky’s mouth. Before Bucky can catch his breath, Loki thrusts forward at the same time he tugs Bucky back down, immediately setting a hard, fast rhythm of fucking Bucky’s throat. 

Bucky goes slack in Loki’s hands, letting himself be used. 

He can barely breathe, his jaw aching, throat bruising each time Loki’s cock rams into it, and he can taste a hint of his own blood on each thrust. 

There’s a small pop as Bucky’s jaw stretches more, not quite dislocating but excruciating nevertheless. Loki keeps going. 

Bucky gags around him, eyes streaming nonstop, and Loki keeps going. 

Bucky can’t breathe, he can hear his pulse pounding in his head, feel it in his cock. Loki keeps going. 

Loki’s dick swells, stretching Bucky’s mouth further, and his eyes roll from the pain in his jaws and lips and lungs. 

Loki’s semen hitting the back of his bruising throat feels like shards of ice, choking him as Loki finally pulls out. 

Gasping, coughing, Bucky lets go of Loki’s cock and would fall to his hands if not for Loki holding him up by his hair. Bursts of freezing cum from Loki’s continuing orgasm coat his face, get in his eyes, up his nose even as more spills from his open mouth. 

It hurts, he can’t _breathe_ , he’s so close, he’s going to—

Loki drops him. 

Bucky faceplants on the stone floor, too uncoordinated from oxygen loss to catch himself. He scrambles to get upright again, still choking, wiping roughly at his eyes to clear them, trying to spit, _swallowing_ — And abruptly realizes he’s alone. 

“Loki?” Bucky asks, or rather tries to. He can barely even hear himself, voice damaged from the throat fucking. 

He blinks, trying to focus his eyes, to figure out where Loki went. 

The room is still suffused with the green glow of Loki’s magic, but Loki is nowhere to be found. 

Panting, with semen drying tacky on his face, Bucky collapses onto his back. 

His cock is still hard, balls tight with need for release, but— 

Where’s Loki?

Bucky closes his stinging eyes, telling himself they only hurt from what Loki did to his face, his throat…

****************************** 

Almost as soon as he catches his breath from the thorough face fucking, he starts to lose it again to panic. 

Where _is_ Loki? 

It hasn’t been all night, there’s no way that’s all Loki wanted from him. 

If he doesn’t complete his part of their deal, Steve will die. 

_Where’s Loki?_

Was he not good enough? Did he do something wrong? 

Bucky shivers once, then again, then suddenly he can’t stop. The floor is hard and cold, he’s still nude, and _where the hell is Loki?_

“Loki,” he says, but his voice is ruined and just attempting to speak scrapes at his already raw throat. 

“Loki!” he tries again anyway, rolling back to hands and knees. He’s shaking violently now, unable to stand, vision blurry with tears. 

He gasps and sobs out, “Loki!” It’s louder this time, echoing a little off the stone chamber, but there’s no response. 

“Steve.” Bucky’s mouth forms the name, but no noise comes out. 

He failed him. He wasn’t good enough. 

He couldn’t save him. 

Bucky’s arms give out, and he goes down hard, hitting his nose and mouth on the stone floor. His lips, barely scabbing over, crack and start bleeding anew. 

There’s still semen all over his face, a little in his hair, on his neck and chest. 

And he’s alone, a failure. 

Bucky curls into himself, breath coming fast and panicked as more tears fall from his eyes, freezing on his lashes. 

“Soldier?” a voice says, and Bucky can’t tell who it is, can’t see who’s in here with him, there’s no one with him he’s cold and alone and Steve is _dead_ —

“Barnes!” A giant, cold blue hand lands on his shoulder, tugging at him, making him unfold, drawing him into someone’s arms.

Loki. 

“Where— why did you— We can keep going, please I want to keep going, just tell me what I did wrong,” Bucky sobs, voice scratchy, face pressing into Loki’s chest. 

“What do you mean?” Loki asks him, his voice even and smooth, soothing. His cold hands stroke up and down Bucky’s spine, burning slightly, but chasing away his shivers nonetheless. 

“I know I fucked up, you left, you can’t leave, we had a deal!” 

Loki is silent, hands pausing. 

“Please,” Bucky continues, “please, all yours for the night, anything you want, tell me what to do, I’m yours, anything—”

“Barnes,” Loki interrupts. “I retrieved your captain. He has life now, and death will not touch him.”

“But…” Bucky forces himself to look up, into Loki’s monstrous face. “You said all night. It hasn’t been all night.” 

“Your performance was satisfactory,” Loki says, and Bucky shakes his head in refusal. 

“No,” he insists, “we had a deal, I know how that works, you have to complete the terms we set.” 

“The terms we set were that I could have you, however I want, for tonight. I had what I wanted.”

“That’s it?” Bucky protests, then shakes his head again. “No, you want more, that wasn’t enough, there’s no way that was enough!” 

“Soldier—”

“ _Bucky_ ,” Bucky corrects, then lowers his head to press his lips to the hollow at the base of Loki’s throat. “You want more.”

Loki doesn’t respond to that, but Bucky can feel those red eyes locked on him. He drags his mouth along Loki’s clavicle, tonguing at the lines of raised skin, tracing them down to a nipple and sucking it between his teeth. 

He feels Loki’s chest hitch under him, and shifts to spread his legs, straddling Loki’s lap. 

“You want more,” Bucky repeats, after pulling off Loki’s nipple with a soft pop.

He grinds down, the loincloth Loki put back on rough and painful against his ass, his taint, his balls. But his dick is getting hard again, and he can feel Loki’s responding as well. 

“Please,” Bucky says, looking into Loki’s eyes as he circles his hips. “ _Please._ ”

“Persistent,” Loki says, smiling slowly. “I like that.” His nails dig into Bucky’s back. “Fine.” 

He leans down to smash his lips against Bucky’s in another violent kiss, at the same time laying Bucky out on the cold stone floor. 

“You’re beautiful, Winter Soldier,” Loki breathes into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky arches up underneath him. Loki bites at Bucky’s swollen lower lip, his sharp teeth immediately splitting more of the sensitive skin. 

Bucky groans, spreads his legs wider, arching up, pressing his chest against Loki’s. 

He’s so cold, everywhere they touch burns with it as Loki goes back to plundering his mouth. The hot blood streaming from his mouth into his hair, pooling in his ears and on the floor, is an alarming contrast. 

Loki sucks Bucky’s tongue into his mouth, teeth like needle points surrounding it, and Bucky’s cock throbs between them, releasing a small stream of precome. 

Loki feels it on his abdomen, and pulls away with a hiss. 

“Beautiful,” he says again, and Bucky bares his throat, closing his eyes. 

There’s a flash of green light, and Bucky feels his skin suddenly clean of the dried semen that’d been starting to flake. He barely has a chance to register the sensation though, before Loki’s freezing mouth is on his throat, sucking and nipping at his pulse point. 

Loki’s nails dig into his back. He can feel his skin splitting, more blood spilling underneath him, slicking the stone. 

Bucky reaches without thinking to tangle his hands in Loki’s black hair, holding him close. His eyes snap open, and he looks down at the top of Loki’s head. 

Loki has horns. Not big, they barely protrude from his skull, small enough his hair covered them so Bucky hadn’t noticed before. 

But they are definitely horns. 

“Are you Satan?” Bucky asks before he can stop himself. 

Loki laughs into his skin, then looks up at Bucky, shaking Bucky’s hands off. 

“Before mortals decided Hell was fire and brimstone,” Loki begins, sneering. 

“Ice,” Bucky interrupts. “Before, centuries ago, they knew it was full of ice.”

Loki’s laughter freezes Bucky’s heart. Loki’s nails— _claws_ — shred his back, and Bucky howls from the pain, arching and writhing, trapped under Loki’s giant form. 

Loki bends his head, seals his mouth around one of Bucky’s nipples, and digs his teeth in. 

Bucky screams, slamming his eyes shut, hips thrusting up against the rough burlap of Loki’s loincloth. The head of his cock hits Loki’s navel, freezing the precome between them even as his body spasms and leaks more. 

Loki takes his hands out from underneath Bucky, grabbing at his hip with one to pin him down as he moves to bite and suck at Bucky’s other nipple. 

Loki’s free hand worms between them, grabbing Bucky’s genitals. His hand is big enough he can hold Bucky’s sack and most of his dick at once. If not for the serum, Loki could squeeze all of him. 

Instead, keeping Bucky pinned at the hips and with the weight of his body, Loki shifts to get a grip on Bucky’s balls. His skin is so cold, Bucky can feel his testicles trying to retreat up into his body from it, but he’s so turned on that it feels like he’s about to come. 

Loki tugs hard, and Bucky keens. He can feel Loki’s nails at the soft skin behind his scrotum, where it meets his perineum. His breathing picks up into panicked gasping as he realizes how easily Loki could castrate him. It’d only take a flick of his wrist, not even magic. 

“Don’t worry,” Loki says, lifting his head from where he’d been alternating his torture of Bucky’s nipples. He grins, teeth and lips stained red with Bucky’s blood. “I’d much rather you keep these.” He squeezes Bucky’s balls hard, forcing another stream of precome out of Bucky’s cock simultaneously with more tears from Bucky’s eyes.

“Please,” Bucky says again, but he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. 

Loki lets go of his testicles, instead pressing Bucky’s cock down against his abs. Loki’s hand covers it entirely. 

“Please what?”

“Please,” Bucky repeats, shaking his head. He doesn’t know what, just “ _please!_ ”

A razor sharp nail scrapes gently, so gently over the dripping head of Bucky’s cock. 

“Whatever I want,” Loki mumbles, pushing up to watch his hand over Bucky’s dick. 

“ _Yes!_ ” Bucky agrees. “Please!”

“I want to fuck you,” Loki says, red eyes appearing completely black as he snaps his head up to meet Bucky’s gaze. 

Bucky gasps, mouth open, trying to catch his breath enough to respond as his entire body tightens. Loki pinches the base of his dick between thumb and forefinger. 

“Yes,” Bucky manages, barely audible as he struggles to breath through his ruined orgasm, voice still scratchy. “Fuck me!” 

“Hmm,” Loki says, expressionless, just watching Bucky squirm. But Bucky sees the way his eyes flash with mischief, and takes another heaving breath to brace himself just in time for Loki’s finger to press against his asshole, freezing cold and making him clench painfully tight even without any attempt at penetration.

“Okay,” Loki agrees, sharp nail scratching not quite enough to draw blood over Bucky’s taint. “But not like this.”

“How?” Bucky manages to ask, before being hit with an extreme wave of glowing green vertigo. 

His world is suddenly upside down, he’s staring at the floor instead of laying on it, all his weight is on his upper abdomen and rib cage, his abused nipples are chafing against what feels like leather—

He tries to move, to roll off whatever he’s on, and realizes he can’t. His arms are stretched out below him, against the legs of the contraption, and his wrists are surrounded by a green glow. Magical restraints he can’t break. 

His legs are similarly tied, spread wide so his ass and genitals are fully exposed. He can’t even touch his toes to the ground. 

The only freedom of movement he has is his neck, and he tries to look behind him but the angle’s wrong for a proper view. He tries not to choke on terror, on the edge of panic from being tied down (although Hydra never tied him like this), about not knowing where Loki is again, if he’s _alone again_ —

“Like this,” Loki’s deep voice drawls from above him, and cold hands stroke up his thighs to grip his ass cheeks, squeezing and digging nails in to draw more blood. 

Bucky gulps, gasps, then goes limp. Loki’s here, Loki’s going to fuck him however Loki wants. Then Loki will save Steve’s life. Everything will be okay. 

He chokes on his own spit at the sudden shock of ice over his hole. Bucky tries desperately to look over his shoulder, to see what Loki’s doing, but the angle’s wrong. 

He can only feel him, gigantic hands holding him painfully open, something—

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky moans, shuddering in his bonds, cock jerking. Loki’s tongue, it’s Loki’s _tongue_ , he’s _eating Bucky out_ — “Dear god!” 

“Yes?” Loki purrs, breath cold against Bucky’s perineum. Bucky moans wordlessly, pushing back as much as he can, seeking more. 

Loki’s mouth is wet and cold like literal ice on his asshole, and the shock makes him clench up despite his best efforts to relax. Loki licks harder, then sucks on his hole, and Bucky can feel himself twitching and fluttering but never loosening enough to allow penetration.

Loki nibbles rough at the edges of his hole, adding a small trickle of warm blood to the barrage of sensation. He’s mouthing at Bucky, lips moving, but it feels more purposeful than before. Is he saying something? 

Bucky jerks forward with a whine as his hole abruptly loosens, cold slick filling him. 

“Magic?”

“Magic,” Loki confirms, then presses his freezing tongue in deep, testing how ready Bucky is. 

Bucky throws his head back and screams. 

Apparently satisfied by his spell, Loki stands and leans over Bucky, tangling a hand in his hair and pressing him down harder onto the leather. 

Bucky can feel Loki’s cock nudging between his cheeks, cold and thick and wet. Another rush of panicked adrenaline hits him. 

“M’not,” Bucky chokes out, “m’not ready! You gotta open me up more!” 

“Hush,” Loki murmurs into his ear. “You can take it.”

“No I can’t!” Bucky protests. 

“Magic,” Loki reminds him as he lines up the head of his cock with Bucky’s slick, throbbing hole. 

Bucky tries to shake his head, but abruptly freezes as the thick tip of Loki’s cock pushes past his rim. 

He doesn’t rip, his rim gives way without undue pressure, but he still feels like he’s splitting open. He opens his mouth, but can’t get enough air to scream. 

“That’s it, see?” Loki whispers, pushing in deeper. The cold, the obscene stretch burns through Bucky’s body, an inescapable agony radiating out from his asshole. “I told you you could do it.”

“I—” Bucky starts, but can’t finish, doesn’t know what he was going to say. It hurts, it burns, it’s ice being stabbed directly into his guts, his rim stretching almost to the point of breaking but not quite. 

And it’s never-ending. Loki’s cock is so big, so long, it just keeps going, more and more, deeper and deeper. 

Bucky can’t get enough air into his lungs. 

Loki’s cock brushes past his prostate, and he comes just like that. His balls draw up, his cock pulses and sprays. His hole spasms, over and over, so tight around Loki that he sobs out loud. 

And Loki’s still going, pushing further inside, faster now. The pressure on his prostate doesn’t dissipate at all even when Loki finally bottoms out. 

Bucky gasps and writhes under Loki as much as he can. 

“Mmm,” Loki hums above him, grinding in. “That’s good, you’re so good, my beautiful Winter Soldier.” 

His ass is so full he thinks he can feel Loki’s cock in his stomach, making it bulge and rub against the leather underneath him. The stretch still burns like ice cold fire. 

His dick is still hard. 

“Thought—” Bucky pants, then starts over. “Thought you were gonna fuck me?” 

Loki laughs, and most of his weight disappears from Bucky’s back. With one hand tangled in Bucky’s hair and the other gripping Bucky’s metal shoulder, Loki pulls back. 

His cock drags against Bucky’s insides, his hole throbbing and aching around it. Loki leaves the tip inside, keeping him open, teasing him, just standing there without moving. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks. 

Bucky nods as best he can with the grip Loki has in his hair. “ _Yes!_ ” 

Loki slams back in, balls slapping cold against Bucky’s, driving him so hard against the bench he’s strapped to it feels like getting punched in the solar plexus. All the air in Bucky’s lungs escapes in a loud whoosh. 

Loki fucks him with fast, deep strokes, pulling most of the way out and driving all the way back in each time. 

He fucks with the strength of a god, because he _is_ a god, and it’s all Bucky can do to take it, keep breathing, stay _conscious_. 

Loki’s thrusts seem to keep getting harder, rougher. Bucky can feel the wounds Loki left around his nipples bleeding on the leather and the deep scratches on his back reopening. 

Everything hurts, his ass most of all, burning from the giant, cold intrusion of Loki’s cock. 

All his awareness becomes pain, the edge so thoroughly blurred that it’s synonymous with pleasure.

“Please, please stop please, Loki, please, don’t, please,” Bucky says, almost silent from the way his throat aches and his inability to draw a full breath. “Stop, _please stop_.”

He barely knows what he’s saying, and Loki doesn’t seem to hear him at first, not over the sound of his hips slamming into Bucky’s ass. 

But Loki does hear him eventually, and Bucky knows the second he does because he stops in mid thrust. 

Bucky gasps, taking the opportunity to catch his breath. Loki doesn’t move, neither to keep fucking him nor to pull out.

“Don’t tell me this is too much for you, Soldier,” Loki says, and Bucky doesn’t have to see him to know the sneer on his face. Oddly, he also doesn’t have to see him to know the split second of hurt that flashes through the god’s eyes. “I thought anything for your captain?”

“Yes, anything,” Bucky confirms, chest heaving as his breath starts to return to him. “Just, I want to…”

“What?” Loki snaps, shoving his dick in a couple more inches. “What do you _want?_ ”

Bucky winces, from the penetration but mostly from the tone of Loki’s voice. 

“To see you,” he whispers. 

“What was that?” Loki demands, pushing his cock in the rest of the way and making Bucky’s eyes roll. 

“To— to see—” Bucky chokes, then inhales as deep as he can. “To see you! I want to _see you_ when I come!” 

Bucky can hear Loki stop breathing, but that’s the only reaction he gets for many minutes. Long enough he can catch his breath completely, at last. 

“You _want_ to see _me?_ ” Loki asks. “When you come?”

“Yes!” Bucky confirms, nodding. Loki’s grip in his hair abruptly loosens and lets go, giving him full range to nod vigorously. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“Why?” Loki asks, almost too quiet for Bucky to hear. 

Bucky turns his head as much as he can, and manages to catch sight of the side of Loki’s face over his shoulder. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Loki inhales sharp through his nose, and Bucky thinks his request will be denied. Loki’s nails dig painfully into the scar tissue at his left shoulder. 

Then Loki pulls out completely, leaving Bucky’s hole empty and gaping. He panics, crying out, thinking Loki is about to leave him again, but instead it’s more glowing green vertigo and his world spinning around him. 

He’s on something genuinely soft this time, on his back with Loki towering above him. 

His arms are still bound with magic, wrists together and stretched out above his head. 

His legs are free, but pushed up and out and hooked over Loki’s arms. 

His ass is still empty, clenching around nothing, unable to close after taking Loki’s giant cock. 

Bucky’s own dick is still hard and throbbing, his balls aching and heavy. 

Loki stares down at him, eyes red, and Bucky thinks he can see fire in them. 

Then Loki’s cock is pressing at Bucky’s hole again, and Bucky arches his back, pushing his hips down, seeking it out. 

Loki fucks in with one sharp thrust, resuming his previous rhythm. 

From this angle, with Bucky bent almost double, instead of just dragging against his prostate Loki’s cock is driving directly into it. 

Bucky howls, so loud and long he can taste blood in the back of his throat. His balls draw up immediately, every muscle in his body locking then releasing. 

Semen pumps out of his cock, burst after burst of it, unending as Loki continues battering his prostate, milking him. 

Bucky’s eyes keep squeezing shut automatically, and he keeps forcing them back open to watch Loki above him. Loki pounds into him even harder when he catches Bucky’s gaze, and Bucky inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment. 

He doesn’t get a chance to recover from orgasm, oversensitive enough that pain turned into pleasure is becoming pain again. 

But he doesn’t ask Loki to stop, doesn’t _want_ Loki to stop. 

This is the deal they made. Bucky will keep it. 

Anything for Steve. 

His cock doesn’t even go soft between them. 

Loki’s cock burns his insides like sandpaper, ice burning up his gut and his groin as the pain/pleasure spikes again. 

Loki tosses his head back suddenly, lean powerful body fully extended above Bucky. His hips pound mercilessly into Bucky’s ass, his hole stretching just that much wider as Loki’s cock swells inside him. 

The noise Loki makes when he comes inside Bucky is inhuman. 

Looking at him, especially like this, there’s no doubting what he is; monster, god, _king_. But the sound coming from Loki’s throat is unlike anything Bucky’s ever imagined a living being could make. 

It is the sound of ice shattering under your feet, fire scorching over the earth, wind destroying all in it’s path. It is pure rage and absolute power.

Loki’s semen fills Bucky’s guts with ice, triggering another orgasm, and he can’t keep looking at Loki as sensation overwhelms him. 

He’s barely aware of Loki moving, bending down, pressing them together. 

But he feels Loki’s teeth dig into his shoulder, at the seam where metal meets flesh, and _rip_ into him. 

Bucky falls into unconsciousness.

****************************** 

His eyes are closed, but whatever’s beyond them is bright enough to hurt anyway. 

He’s laying on something soft, wet, and cold. 

Snow, Bucky realizes slowly. He’s laying in the snow. He opens his eyes slowly, wincing as he does so from the sun’s bright glare. 

He blinks the spots from his vision, and tries to remember what happened. 

He shifts, preparing to stand up, and feels his asshole throb painfully, cold slick between his cheeks and on the inside of his thighs under his uniform— his uniform?

He sits up, groaning with pain as his ass burns. 

Loki. 

Loki fucked him. He made a deal with _Loki_ and let Loki _fuck him_. 

Actual alien god king Loki who tried to conquer Earth. 

And now, he’s sitting in the snow, the sun high above in a clear sky. He’s back in his uniform, still ripped and bloody from the battle, but he can feel the injuries he’d sustained are healed. 

All that’s left now is the sharp ache in his ass, his sore dick and empty balls, and—

He unbuckles the top of his uniform to look at his left shoulder. If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t notice the additional scar tissue. It blends in well with the mess that is where his metal arm attaches to his body, but he can see it because he knows where to look.

Where Loki’s teeth bit into him, deep, so deep. It’s already healed, and— he unbuckles a little more— there are no marks on his chest, around his nipples. His back feels fine too despite how he knows Loki clawed him open. 

Bucky licks his lips, tasting bitter salt and fire and blood. He clears his throat and flinches from the pain. The side of his face throbs from where Loki slapped him, but everything else is healed completely.

Something shifts behind him, metal clanging, and he hears a groan. 

“Steve!” He scrambles to his feet, ignoring how his hole burns with the movement, and turns around. 

The quinjet is there, one wing snapped and barely hanging on, on its side in a gigantic snowbank. 

“Steve!” he calls again, voice hoarse. Another groan answers him, and he runs to the wreckage. 

He rips the windshield out and crawls inside. 

_Steve_. 

He’s there, sitting up slowly, uniform ripped half off, bloody bandages falling from his abdomen revealing—

Bucky stumbles, falls to his knees, glass and metal and other detritus digging in painfully.

There’s no wound. Steve is whole, uninjured. His guts aren’t hanging half out anymore. There’s not even a scar. 

Hell, the cuts on Steve’s face are gone, and the burn on his arm. 

He’s completely healed. 

“Buck?” Steve asks, blinking at him in confusion. 

“C’mon Stevie,” Bucky says, pushing back to his feet, holding out his hand. “Let’s get outta here.”

Steve takes his hand, and lets Bucky lead him out into the snow. 

“What happened?” Steve asks. 

“What do you remember?” Bucky says instead of answering. 

Steve frowns at the quinjet, chewing on his lip. 

“I… There was this… woman? I could only see one side of her. She said… She said we were waiting, she stopped me as a favor, and we had to wait there. It was… There was nothing…” Steve trails off. 

“Then?” Bucky prompts. 

“This… Was that a dream?” Steve asks. 

“What happened with the woman, Steve?” 

“Well, we waited, then this… Must’ve been an alien, a blue giant. He appeared, and told me ‘you are no longer for death’.”

Bucky feels his heart skip a beat. “No longer for death?” he repeats. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, still not looking at him, still frowning and thinking hard. 

“No longer for death,” Bucky says again, and hopes he’s just being paranoid. He meant Steve’s life _now_ , not fore—

“He gave me a golden apple,” Steve says, finally looking at Bucky. Then he does a double take. “What happened to your face?”

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie,” Bucky says, waving a hand. 

“Buck… Where are we?”

“Somewhere in Scandinavia.”

“The…” Steve looks back to the quinjet, then abruptly sits down. 

“Stevie?” Bucky yelps, going down next to him on his knees. “What’s wrong?”

“Bucky… How am I alive? I remember— I took that hit,” Steve says, staring at Bucky with wide, fearful eyes. Steve puts his hand on his own stomach, where the fatal injury was. “Right here.”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky says, sighing and leaning back. “Right there.”

“ _How am I alive?_ ” Steve asks again. 

Bucky takes a deep breath, then meets his eyes. 

“Does it really matter, Stevie? You _are_ alive,” Bucky says. “And so am I,” he adds like an afterthought. “We made it out, who cares how? We just gotta figure out what comes next.”

Steve is looking at him strangely. 

“What?” Bucky asks self-consciously. 

“Yeah, we’re _both_ alive aren’t we?” Steve asks, reaching out and covering the red mark on Bucky’s face with his hand. Bucky shudders. 

“Yeah, Steve. We’re both alive. The question is what now?” 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just looking at Bucky until Bucky has to look away. Steve’s expression is odd, thoughtful and soft. 

“What now,” Steve repeats, then shakes himself. Bucky looks back, and his eyes widen. He can read Steve like a book, and Steve is bracing himself to do something stupid. 

“Wha—” Bucky starts, but he’s almost immediately cut off by the way Steve lunges across the few feet separating them, pressing his lips to Bucky’s in a desperate kiss. 

Bucky freezes, inhaling sharp through his nose. 

He can smell blood, metal and fuel from the quinjet, the sharp, clean air. Sweat, from Steve and himself. Gunpowder. 

Magic. 

Loki’s taste is still on his tongue, his spend dripping out of Bucky’s gaping hole, staining his pants. 

But Steve’s alive, they’re both _alive_. That’s the only thing that matters. 

Bucky kisses back.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, all our gratitude to the MCU Kink Bang mods, thank you for all your hard work! 
> 
> I am IN AWE of the beautiful art Lasenby_Heathcote made for my story, thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3 ~~ Darling 
> 
> [Check out our Masterpost!!!!](https://bedofphoenixashes.tumblr.com/post/172613161029/deal-with-the-devil-fic-deal-with-the-devil#notes) 
> 
> ***Spoilers with extended warnings***
> 
> Mildly dubious consent: Bucky makes a deal to have sex with Loki in exchange for Steve's life. He's pretty into the sex as it happens, but the premise in and of itself is dubious. Tag also applies because he does express a desire for Loki to prepare him more before penetrating him which Loki does not listen to. He also tells Loki to stop at one point, which Loki doesn't hear at first however when he does hear Bucky he stops. 
> 
> Story opens with Bucky and Steve, implied immediately post-Civil War, however Steve is fatally injured. This is described somewhat graphically. They are in a quinjet with no allies left, Bucky doesn't know what to do. He decides to put the plane down in hopes of freezing them, and possibly saving Steve's life. He says a single prayer that Loki hears.
> 
> At one point, Loki slaps Bucky and knocks him to the floor for a comment he makes. 
> 
> Bucky willingly performs oral sex on Loki, and encourages Loki to fuck his mouth. Because Loki is a frost giant with a large penis and very cold skin/semen/everything, this is very rough on Bucky and painful for him, however he is also aroused by the pain. 
> 
> Loki bites and scratches Bucky enough to draw blood at various points. At one point, he grabs Bucky's testicles and because he has very sharp nails Bucky fears he's going to be castrated, and Loki comments on it to reassure him that's not going to happen.
> 
> Loki uses his magic to tie Bucky to a contraption on all fours, and fucks him on it. He uses magic to prepare Bucky instead of normal lube/fingering, and Bucky is very hesitant to trust that he is prepared enough. When he expresses this, Loki ignores his concerns. The magic keeps Bucky from tearing, however penetration is still painful. 
> 
> At one point, Bucky tells Loki to stop and it takes a little for Loki to hear him. Loki does stop, and Bucky says he wants to see Loki when he comes. So Loki uses magic to shift them to a bed, with Bucky on his back. There's some allusion to anal gaping. 
> 
> When Loki orgasms, he bites Bucky very badly on Bucky's left shoulder. Bucky passes out, and wakes up back with Steve who's fine, and Bucky is also healed (the bite on his shoulder is scarred over and blends in with the scars from his metal arm etc).


End file.
